


To Learn to Fly, You Must First Learn to Fall

by TheHallowedLady



Series: Zero Safety Nets [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: -Ish, Angst, Angsty Hanzo, Circus, Hanzo is kind of a mess, M/M, One-Sided Flirting, Post-Recall, Slow Burn, aerialist skills, author is a nervous individual, author is still learning, canon-divergent, tags will be added as develops, who only finds the courage to post at 3am
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-04-29 10:22:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14470584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHallowedLady/pseuds/TheHallowedLady
Summary: “The circus offered me a place to rest in safety. To remain on the move and out of sight. The people were trusting and kind – and I betrayed them.”A circus is the perfect place to work if you need to stay on the move. You meet interesting people there. Learn interesting skills. Share a kiss with a cowboy who stares at you like you’re something worth watching. Watch the people who called you family burn. Go running after a brother who shouldn’t even be alive….You can only run from the past for so long before it catches up with you. You can only turn down a stubborn man so many times before you give in. You can only betray your family, blood and found, so many times before one of them stops forgiving you. Hanzo just wants one decent night of rest.“I trusted you to catch me.”“You were a fool to do so.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a continuation of 'the show goes on' which was my small practice piece I posted a short while ago. I'm very nervous and super anxious about sharing my writing with people, but I will take criticism and make corrections if mistakes are pointed out to me. It will not be necessary to read 'The show goes on' by the time this is finished, if I swing this right. Please offer writing advice, corrections, formatting, and bear with my slow-paced anxious writing.

_‘Passengers are reminded that flight 2854 leaving for Gibraltar is currently experiencing a delay of-’_

He drowned out the speaker, letting it merge into the white noise of hundreds of other voices talking at once that filled the lobby. Curling up next to the duffel bag of his things and sighing deeply, resting his head back against the wall, Hanzo stared forward into the waves of moving crowds and people, unseeing anything except the blurred colours ahead. This was it. He was really doing this. Waiting in a crowded airport at three am for a delayed plane that would take him halfway across the world. To a country he had never been to before. To his Brother.

His brother, and maybe, hopefully, a chance at the redemption he wanted. A purpose once more. The case hiding stormbow felt heavy on his lap, weighing him down like an anchor in the ocean – and hadn’t _that_ been fun to get through airport security. It was mostly luck they had believed it was for recreational and competition use. _‘They would never had allowed me through if they knew the blood I have spilled’_

Thinking of what was to come made Hanzo’s grip tighten on the case. After all, he had more than just his brother to make up for now. Even as thoughts of his brother’s face still plagued his dreams and now his waking hours as well, it was not the only nightmare he found himself reliving now. The blood on his hands was vast and substantial, but as he tucked a hand into the pocket of his trousers, he felt the piece of paper folded there burning in reminder of the others who deserved recompense for his actions.

The archer carefully unfolded the deeply worn creases of the newspaper clipping, one of the few pieces of solid, physical paper he could get in an age where everything was digital. Time had worn away words here and there, but that didn’t matter. If asked, Hanzo could have recited the piece word for word. For what must have been the hundredth time, the archer’s eyes read over the ink standing out at him like an accusing brand against the white paper.

 

_ CIRCUS TENT BURNS DOWN IN SUSPECTED ARSON _

_Last Thursday night an unfortunate event claimed the lives of seven and left four more in intensive care after the main tent of the ‘Circus Extraordinaire’ travelling Circus was engulfed by flames during a show rehearsal. The fire started at the main entrance to the tent and quickly spread, leaving fourteen out of the twenty-nine members of the circus troupe inside scrambling for freedom. The performer’s entrance had been suspiciously blocked off before the fire began, leading local police to suspect foul play. Currently no suspects have been named, and no leads have been noted._

_The report notes one member eventually cut through the fabric of the tent to freedom, but before all of them could flee the blaze, the tent rigging collapsed under the heat and crushed three performers. Two more later died from heavy burns and complications, whilst two others suffered smoke inhalation and suffocation. Those remaining suffered extensive burns, smoke inhalation and other related injuries, the state of three other members of the troupe is critical, leaving them fighting for their lives. The final two also suffered heavy burns but are reported to be recovering well. The deceased include:_

_Lin Rode – Stage Hand_

_Evan Malone – Rigging and Lighting Technician_

_Grace MacMahon – Stage Hand_

_Sophia MacMahon – Performer_

_Mat_ _í_ _as Garcia – Performer_

_Oliver Laurentine – Performer_

_Evanna Laurentine – Performer_

_Madame Alicia Devenney, Ringmaster of the circus, gave the following statement: “This has been a tragedy that has struck us all deeply. The circus is our family, and losing anyone, let alone so many at once, leaves a wound time will not heal quickly. It is uncertain how we will progress from this, or if we even can, but all we can hope for now is that the Police can bring justice to the person or people who took many loved and talented individuals from us.”_

_It is noted that the circus will remain closed indefinitely until further notice. Anyone with information regarding the occurrence is urged to come forward and share their statement with local police forces._

_Updates will continue on this story once more is known._

Hanzo re-read the names again and sighed as he folded the paper once more to tuck into his pocket. Seven innocent lives…the archer could still see every single one of their faces if he concentrated hard enough. Sophia and Grace’s identical waves in greeting whenever they would see him. Evan’s smile as he played guitar. The smell of Lin’s cooking – the way Oliver and his sister would dance around the fires laughing loud enough to make him want to join in. The only blessing was seeing that at least her name wasn’t on the list as well. Barely. Luckily.

Guilt pulled a little harder at his chest, making him dig his nails into his palm to avoid taking the paper out of his pocket again, as if reading the names would help forget that night. Or the faces attached to them. He remembered it all. He remembered the way the fire had illuminated the sky, the smell of bonfire and warping metal and the screaming. Screaming for help. Screaming from inside. Screaming for him. Screaming to _stop_. To _save_ them. _Brother, why…?_

**_THUNK_ **

The archer growled, his face screwed up and his head beginning to ache where he had hit it backwards into the wall, the thoughts beginning to rise like the ocean, prepared to drag him under and swallow him whole. ‘ _Just let them stop. Just for a moment, please’_ He thought desperately, the anger and loathing, the hurt and sadness, shame and distress churning together into a rolling wave of nausea. It was just more people to add to the list.

More people to haunt his dreams, scream at him in his scant resting hours. He felt the dragons beneath his skin hissing and writhing in response to his own emotions, craving an outlet he couldn’t give them. Instead, Hanzo closed his eyes, drowning out the buzz of white noise as people walked back and forth around him. Deep breaths. Clear your head. It will pass if you make it pass.

“ _Perhaps I am a fool to think there’s hope for you”_

“Enough!” Hanzo growled under his breath, his eyes screwing shut as he tried to shake the memories of that night in Hanamura. No use. If he got rid of that, all he could hear was screaming and fire. It wouldn’t end. Maybe that’s what he deserved. It was his punishment to remember and relive the biggest mistakes of his life. Remember Genji’s face as the blood slipped into the cracks of the floor, remember Fey’s eyes as she stared at him in betrayal from her burning home –

He threw himself forward with another growl, digging his nails into the palm of his hand and relishing the distraction of pain. At least the physical pain was manageable. It took away from the emotional pain building and ricocheting around his chest like the dragons were trying to consume him.

 _‘You deserve this. You deserve this pain and suffering.’_ The thoughts whispered, before he could stop them. The archer shook the thoughts off before they could drive him down again. Trying to refocus, to find something positive to remember, like _she_ once taught him. Thoughts of home. The cherry blossoms on the trees, the scents from the ramen store close to the castle, sparring with Genji-

_No._

Fine. Other memories, good memories. There had to be some, surely? Somewhere in his mind had to be a good memory, just a simple, warm thought. Something to think about without calling up blood and blade and smoke and ashes and screaming alongside it. Something, anything.

Well…

The little flickers of old thought rose from the murky fog in his head like a beacon. Hanzo took a few deep, calming breaths, releasing the tension from his shoulders, his hands, his legs. Yes… He could focus on that. That memory was a good one. Years may have softened the details, but the important parts shone through.

The memory of smiling eyes and a deep voice like honeyed whisky that called him such sweet names as they walked amongst the bright lights of the circus’ games alley. The way the man had shuddered and pulled away from the clowns and made jokes just to see the archer smile. Tobacco had clung to the man’s scent, so strongly that sometimes Hanzo wondered if he could still smell the faint traces on his skin even almost two years on. How they had simply wandered, enjoying each other’s space while moonlight washed over the field. No expectations, no machinations.

Just one night of mindless indulgence, to forget about running or responsibilities and just _be_ – how the sounds of laughter and music had sung in the air around the both of them, giving him the courage to kiss the man who had stared at him like he was something beautiful and precious. The thrilled and surprised smile when Hanzo had pulled back from those chapped lips that had felt wonderful against his own. His hands had been so very warm where they had held him, making him feel safe even for just a few brief hours…

_Passengers boarding flight 2854 leaving for Gibraltar are asked to please begin boarding at gate fifteen immediately—_

Hanzo flinched as the sounds of the airport came rushing back in to fill the sudden space, echoing loudly around the room. The memory was broken as the intercom reminded him of what he was here for. The past would stay in the past; all he could hope for now was a chance at redemption for a better future. A chance to help create that better future.

He shrugged the duffel bag onto his shoulder, the bow case in his hands and pushing himself to his feet. His head hurt and his hands ached. This was it. It was time to pick his side.

He wonders, briefly, as he’d boarding the plane in silence with his head kept low, if there was ever really a choice in the first place.

* * *

 

It’s thirteen hours of cramped space and one unfortunately timed screaming child later that Hanzo wishes he’d just stowed aboard a boat instead. His headache has only gotten worse, a low beat thumping behind his eyes that only increases its tempo when he steps from the plane into the Gibraltar sunlight. Damn time zones. It’s still a long trek to the old overwatch base, if the co-ordinates he memorised so long ago are correct.

“Shimada Hanzo?”

A voice cut through his thoughts, his name spoken in clipped tones. Hanzo tensed up, hand on his bow case gripping just a little more firmly. Footsteps walked briskly towards him, clicking on the paved floor. “I am correct in assuming you are Shimada Hanzo? Genji informed us you would be arriving soon.” At the sound on his brother’s name, Hanzo turned around fully to face the stranger. She was tall, her hair short and dark around a face set with stern, strong features. The most striking of which being the tattoo beneath her right eye. Her mouth was turned down in a frown as she stared down at him, muscular arms crossed over her chest. Hanzo narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“And who exactly are you?”

“Fareeha Amari. Informally an agent of Overwatch and head of security for Helix. And the person tasked with making sure you get to base in one piece.” She replied, motioning to point her thumb at the car parked next to her on the road. Her words were short and harsh, and it didn’t take an assassin trained in reading people to tell she didn’t want to be here any more than he did.

He stubbornly held eye contact with Miss Amari as she continued to glare down at him. How was he supposed to know If he could trust her? Anyone could claim to be a member for the reforming Overwatch – but she mentioned Genji by name… Eventually she turned away from him in silence and opened the car door with more force than was necessary.

“I was told to pick you up, Shimada. Get in the damned car.”

He got in the damned car.

 

 

There’s nothing but tense silence between the two of them for the first five minutes or so, until the woman huffs and turns to face Hanzo with an angry glare. She lasted longer than he’d expected.

“Okay, listen closely Shimada. I don’t care what happened to you and your brother in the past. As far as I care, that is your fight to finish. But if you hurt _anyone_ on base, you won’t even have time to feel regret. Do I make myself clear?” She told him firmly. Hanzo glared back at the woman, breaking eye contact to stare out of the window dismissively. He pretended the way she muttered about Genji ‘losing his goddamned mind’ didn’t hurt as they kept driving along in blessed silence. What else could he expect? He deserved their judgement and mistrust after all. The archer let his thoughts wander as they wished. Reluctantly, he was drawn back to another old memory of first meetings…

 

* * *

 

 

_The bright lights of the circus tent illuminated the clearing Hanzo hid in the shadows of. Children and couples laughed under the noise of music dancing out across the field, while in the air, the scents of sweets and foods mingled together into a delicious scent. The archer hid conspicuously away from the crowds, not drawing attention to himself as he watched everyone. A sense of warmth surrounded the place. Inviting. Beckoning._

_It was a ridiculous whim. A foolhardy and pointless idea. But as Hanzo tucked the bow away into an instrument case and tightened his jacket around his shoulders, he decided to leave the shadows, moving closer to the circus. Just to see. Not because that warm atmosphere made some of his own cold loneliness seem a little easier to manage for a moment. Not because it reminded him of Genji and how he would have loved this. Not because a giddy, childish part of him recalled hearing about circuses back home in Hanamura but had never had one of their own for him to visit. It was crowded, he would be well-hidden. That was all._

_So he crept around the back, easily leaping the fence and landing noiselessly on the other side to avoid the ticket inspectors at the gate. He was only taking a quick look around, just in then out. It would be fine. Relax your shoulders, keep a calm expression. Look like you belong and no one will question if you do. The lights shone like a beacon where they were hung like fireflies down a walkway of vendors and carnival games. Clowns in colourful makeup paraded up and down the paths, waving and handing balloons to the children who crowed in delight._

_The music was a light, twinkling sound that loaned a fantastical air to the setting. Hanzo shouldered his case a little higher, even feeling his lips quirk into a smile as he looked at the shooting games, watching a couple trying to aim correctly to hit the clown statues. He didn’t even need to lift the toy rifle to tell it was rigged against the shooter. You’d need an incredibly steady hand to win. Hanzo entertained the idea of playing for a moment, before he picked up his feet and kept walking. No need to waste money on something so trivial._

_It wasn’t much further until a small stage setup came into view. A preview stage, to allow performers to show off and convince the crowd to migrate towards the looming Big Top tent at the end of the alley of carnival games. A large crowd was already gathered in front, large enough to grip Hanzo’s curiosity and draw him towards the small stage. At first it was difficult to see what exactly had drawn so many people’s attention, until there was a loud ‘oooh!’ from the audience and something glowing with fire was thrown into the air. By moving carefully through the crowds of people, he finally managed a good view._

_On the stage stood a woman, twisting a pair of batons around her body, fire glowing from the ends of both. She threw one into the air at the same moment she cartwheeled to the left, an impressive feat of agility that would have had Hanzo’s martial arts tutors in fits if it wasn’t for the lack of control she landed with. The thrown baton was caught just in time to be twisted around her wrist above her head, whilst the second was thrown around her waist, hips moving in a serpentine curl to keep it balanced without burning._

_She was graceful, sure, but her movements lacked the polish of professional training. There were mistakes, and the longer he watched, the more Hanzo spotted them._

_He couldn’t help himself, unconsciously finding himself analysing her movements; the wasted actions and points where her balance was just slightly off. Too many years of martial arts training made it almost second nature. When she flipped to the side her foot shook on the landing. A stumble on a pirouette. Almost dropping the baton entirely when her wrist was at the wrong angle to catch it. And yet…_

_And yet. She was grinning, laughing with every action and smiling out across the audience with every movement. Perfection wasn’t her goal, enjoyment was. Her steps wild and free, uncaring about how she was supposed to move so long as she didn’t stop._

_She – she reminded him of Genji, the way she moved and smiled and cared more for theatrics than skill. Thoughts of Genji brought back that cold guilt again and he turned away, leaving the crowd as silently as he’d joined it. He’d seen enough. It was time go to. If he kept moving he may even find somewhere safe to rest in the next town. The Shimada assassins had been less bothersome here, but bounty hunters were more concerning. He began a slow walk away from the circus tent, silent steps carrying his feet on autopilot._

_He was maybe halfway towards the exit when someone spoke up behind him._

_“You know you’re going to miss the show if you keep walking that way.” He turned to look over his shoulder, hand reflexively tightening on the guitar case. The woman from the stage. Artificial lighting illuminated dark skin and playfully bright black eyes. Gold dust made her face glow and sparkle, and the glitter in her form-fitting bodysuit shimmered with each movement she made. Strands of black and white hair fell out from the braided buns and floated in front of her face when she tilted her head to the side with a grin, hands on her hips. Hanzo only frowned and turned away from the acrobat. Intending to ignore them._

_“Still going the wrong way, friend~!” Her voice teased him. Hanzo paused, turning to narrow his eyes in a glare at the far-too-glittery woman._

_“I do not intend on watching the show.” He told her bluntly. Her grin curled into a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at him._

_“Then what a waste of sneaking in here in the first place. C’mon stranger. One show. Bet we can impress you~.” She challenged him in a sing-song tone. Hanzo looked at her grinning face again, only to see Genji staring back at him in the curve of her smile, the squint of her eyes. She teased like he would have, and knew just how to get under his skin, like he did…_

_“You noticed me sneak in.” he repeated back. Easier to focus on that aspect for now. The woman only grinned on. He thought he had been unnoticed, he had made sure to be unnoticed. “There was no one nearby. You couldn’t have seen me.” Hanzo had made sure he would be unseen. Her grin just got wider. It was infuriating. It was so familiar._

_“Come watch the show, and maybe I’ll tell you.” And with that she turned on her toes, raising a hand and giving a mocking salute while heading back to the sounds of music and laughter to leave him alone in the crowd again. Hanzo only hesitated for a moment. He turned. He followed. Back into the bright lights and laughter that welcomed him in like one of their own. What a change that made._

* * *

 

 

“Hey! Look alive, Shimada. We’re here.” Hanzo shook himself out of the memories, the sharp voice cutting through them bringing him back to the present. The Gibraltar base loomed ahead of them like a fortress of forgotten solitude on the great rock. The grounds around were overgrown and the greenery was beginning to consume the grey in places. An atmosphere of silence and isolation fell through the air, the sort of feel you may get if you were disturbing something ancient that was not meant to be used. Hanzo couldn’t stop his face from twisting into a grimace. This was it. Genji was here. No turning back. No more running away.

The woman – Fareeha, had she said? – noticed his expression and rolled her eyes. “It may not look like much but it’s all we have. Winston will want to see you first. And don’t forget – one wrong move. One hand on my friends here, and You’ll be off the rock faster than you can blink.” Hanzo didn’t reply. He didn’t bother telling her Genji would likely be the first one in line if he did mess up. He’d deserve it. He deserved all their anger.

 

\---

“ _Anija_!” the metallic voice called out for him, startling the archer and making his heart skip a beat at the old endearment. He couldn’t stop himself from flinching back as cold metal hands reached for him though, guilt welling up like the tide when the reaction made Genji draw back again. Standing a safe distance away and clasping his hands behind his back, bowing his head to Hanzo instead and if that didn’t just make the knife twist a little harder.  “It is good to see you, brother. I’m glad you decided to join us here.”

This was it. He was here. He’d travelled halfway across the world for a chance at redemption. Genji was in front of him. Speaking to him. _Happy_ of all things to see him. And he couldn’t move.

Of course Genji had been waiting the moment the car had pulled into the garage of the base. Chrome armour and green accents glowing as Hanzo stepped out of the car. Fareeha greeted Genji with a smile and a hand on his shoulder, before shooting one last glare at Hanzo and marching towards the exit. Genji didn’t seem to notice her animosity. Although, it was difficult to tell what Genji felt when Hanzo couldn’t see his face past the face guard covering it. Probably for the best, in truth.

Genji had darted forward almost before Hanzo was even out of the car. Like when they were children and he had been forced to attend ‘business meetings’ with his Father. Genji had always waited and ran for him as soon as they were out of the car. The memories drove home how unprepared he really was. Not ready. Not ready for this. Too late to turn back.

His brother’s voice was low and gentle as he continued to speak, even reaching out to take one of Hanzo’s bags for him. Hanzo noticed he didn’t touch the bow case, taking the duffel bag instead and shouldering it with ease. Genji had left him armed. Hanzo’s heart had apparently decided to take up residence in his throat, cutting off his words as he stared at the silver and green armour concealing his brother from him. How much was still even his brother’s body anymore? _You did this…_

“Brother? Are you alright?” ‘ _Why do you care?_ _I don’t deserve your worry!’_ Hanzo wanted to scream. Instead, he took a deep breath, shaking his head and staring just slightly to the left of Genji’s chrome mask. It was easier than meeting eyes he couldn’t see.

“Nothing – Brother. I am just tired from the journey.” He lied. He couldn’t even call the man opposite him his brother without hesitating. Shameful. Dishonourable. _Liar._

At least it seemed believable to the Cyborg, who nodded once and motioned with one robotic hand towards the garage door. “Of course, I should have realised the flight would be long. I was supposed to take you to Winston when you arrived -  I will tell him you need rest first, he can wait until morning. Come, let me show you to your room” Hanzo remained a few steps behind his brother, noting how silently they both moved. Even with all the metal armour and his own heavy boots, you’d think there would be at least some noise. Without words to fill the space, it felt tense and oppressive – or maybe that was just him. Genji seemed to have no issues. Where was his baby brother who would talk just to fill silence?

“The woman you sent to meet me…she is another agent of Overwatch?” He eventually broke, awkwardly muttering the question under his breath. Genji would still hear it.

“Fareeha? Yes, in as much as Overwatch exists now. She is reliable, and strong in the field. You can count on her.” Genji replied, Hanzo only giving a ‘hm’ in reply. Silence reigned again. Eventually they stopped in a corridor lined with doors, and his brother handed his back his bag. “Here, this room will be yours. I am just down the hall.” Hanzo nodded, watching Genji enter the code for his room and memorising it. He bowed his head in thanks to his brother as the door hissed open.

Genji still didn’t leave, standing there like a statue as Hanzo dragged his bags into his room, keeping his head low. “Will you join us for dinner? I would like to introduce you to everyone.” The offer made Hanzo freeze. Remembering the glare Fareeha had given him; not to mention the threat. Would the others…? These were Genji’s friends. Of _course_ they would. He tightened his grip into fists to hide his shaking hands. He couldn’t even make himself turn to face his brother as he responded. “I – I do not think that would be wise. I am tired, it is likely I will rest all evening. Goodnight…Genji.”

He closed the door before Genji could finish his hastily begun ‘Hanzo, wait-!’ and sank onto the small cot with his head in his hands. His head hurt so much now, throbbing in time with his hurried heartbeat as he tried not to let himself think about how he was running away from his problems all over again. For the hundredth time, a question spiralled around his head. _Why did he come here?_ What right did he have to his brother’s forgiveness when he couldn’t even look his brother in the face and accept what he had _done_. He was just so tired…The archer could only and let his body fall sideways to lay on the bed, staring out at the darkened room until exhaustion - physical and mental - claimed him.


	2. Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo is not having a good time. It's hard to be strong when you've been doing it for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, wow, I uh...somehow got a chapter 2 out. Okay so I'm still veeeeery new to all of this so formatting, writing, characterisation, and general advice is all appreciated, I want to improve my writing - and I do have another fic in the works which features Selkie!McCree which I'm hoping to have the first chapter of published within a week, if anyone's interested.

_“Why are you still following me?” Hanzo asked, huffing out a quick breath of irritation as he turned around and faced the shadow that had been wandering in his wake since he left the circus tent fifteen minutes ago. He glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest, intimidating her into backing off. The woman only crossed her arms over her chest, mocking him through mimicry, tilting her head to the side and grinning again. He narrowed his eyes and kept watching her. He’d been raised by Yakuza, he knew how to wait someone out._

_“I watched your ‘show’. Why do you continue to--”_

_“Come with us.” The woman suddenly spoke up, shifting her weight eagerly from foot to foot like she just couldn’t stay still._

_“What?” the archer replied incredulously. Had he misheard her? Surely h--_

_“The circus attracts all sorts, y’know. Homeless, runaways, criminals, orphans…so long as you’re willing to work by our rules, we’ll take you in, that’s our rule! So, I’m pretty good at spotting what someone running away looks like. You need to stay on the move and out of sight? no one expects a travelling circus to be where that person ends up. You need food and a bed? We offer that along with pay for every show.” She had straightened up her posture as she spoke, Hanzo noticed how her shoulders rose with tension. “So…come with us. We leave after tomorrow’s show. I know the Ringmaster won’t mind and with arms like yours, we could use the extra stage hand.”_

_Hanzo remained silent, frozen with his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the young woman._

_“Why would you offer this?”_

_“I told you. I know what someone on the run looks like.” She said with that same grin that reminded him so, so much of Genji. His baby brother…buried and broken in the ground because of his own hubris. But still she dared smile just like he once did. Smiled at him so freely. “So, what’s the call?” she asked again._

_Hanzo opened his mouth to turn her down, to turn his back and go back to the drab, empty hotel room so wallow in his memories. He wanted to tell her she was being ridiculous. To scoff and tell her that he had no need for such a ridiculous offer. That a dragon runs from nothing. So why was he hesitating…?_

_‘Come with us’ she’d said. The last time he heard those words, his brother had looked so hopefully at him._

_Genji would have laughed and never believed him if he said he joined a circus._

_“I will consider it.”_

_Fire…_

_Ash…_

_Burning…_

_Blood on old wood…_

_Screaming. Who was screaming?_

_“Murderer! You did this!”_

_“Brother, why…?”_

_Blood and silk in a burning temple. Wrong. The temple didn’t burn…_

_White and green and silver and red blurring together._

_They burned. He burned. Dragon fire burning through everything. Fire in the sky. Fire below. Ice in his chest. Cold. So cold. Burning…_

**_“Murderer!”_ **

\---

“No!” Hanzo gasped as he jerked awake and bolt upright from the nightmare that had held him. His ears rang with the echoes of his own shout, arm stretched ahead as if to reach for some invisible person. Gasping for air through a throat full of sandpaper. Not enough. There wasn’t enough air. Too much smoke in his throat. The thin air rattled in his chest, lungs tied up in rope that just wouldn’t let him breathe. His heart pounded like he had ran for miles. He dragged in a deep breathe, holding it tight as he forced himself to release it slowly, unwinding the tension in his shoulders by force. The arm outstretched fell to the bed with a muted ‘thump’.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Hanzo almost didn’t notice the faint blue glow to his left, his eyes closed as he tried to fight back the heat building behind his eyes. Only after a soft chirrup noise echoed by his ear and the scent of petrichor and lightning filled the room did he open them again. The faces of his dragons, twisted around one another as their small claws clung to the front of his jacket – and he must have been more exhausted than he first thought to have fallen asleep without removing it – nudging their soft muzzles against his jaw. Offering comfort in the face of their Master’s fear.

_‘You fear unrealities, young one. What troubles your mind so?’_

He sighed deeply and raised a hand to rub through the mane of fur around their heads, feeling static crackling through the soft fur. Softly he murmured ‘I’m fine, it was just a nightmare’ as they nuzzled against his face. Soft chirrups and chittering sounds made to soothe surrounding him.

He sighed again and let his weight drag him back onto the uncomfortably hard mattress, sitting up again almost immediately to pull the band out of his hair and then lying down again. The dragons immediately taking up residence on his chest and making a soft rumbling purr of comfort. As the last of the tension faded and the sweat of the nightmare cooled on his skin to leave him shivering, Hanzo took a moment to look around the room. He’d been too exhausted to take any notice of anything except the presence of a bed yesterday.

It was dark outside the small window, set high in the wall and barely cracked for ventilation, clouds blocking out even the faintest moonlight. The room itself a nondescript grey with few personable features. A bed, a wardrobe set into the wall, a door that presumably lead to a bathroom, a desk with shelf space built into the wall just behind it, and the bed he lay on now. Bland. Empty.

He dragged himself into the tiny attached bathroom, hardly registering the motions of washing the sweat from his skin before he was back in the bed again. The dragons circled around his shoulders, rumbling soothingly as he dragged himself back into the bed. At least now all he could smell was the scent of the sky after a thunderstorm. No more ash and fire. No more screaming and blood.

Why didn’t it end?

\---

when Hanzo finally roused again. His limbs felt heavy and his head still ached as he opened his eyes with a groan. His throat felt like he’d swallowed ash, gritty and dried out where he’d barely drunk anything all day. On top of that, his stomach growled loudly to remind him his last meal had been the awful undercooked aeroplane meal that had sat rubbery and mostly untouched after two bites. The dragons raised their heads from where they remained curled on his chest, the one on the left (the one with a broken antler. Snapped just at the tip on one side. He tried not remembering why that had happened. He failed.) huffed out a breath in a way that almost sounded like a laugh.

Blue numbers glowed softly on the clock at his bedside, showing it to be 2:05am. Five hours was long enough to sleep. ‘ _It is unlikely anyone else would be awake…’_ He thought to himself. The thought of running into anyone else before he was ready made a cold ball of anxiety swirl in his chest. Jury was still out on whether he’d even manage to stay, if he kept feeling like this. He hated the uncertainty and guilt that had wormed its way through his veins since his brother left him kneeling in that temple, nothing but a half-burned incense stick and a few broken arrows for company.

_“Your feelings aren’t going to go away just because you crush them down. You either drown in them as they drag you under, or you learn to surf through the waves.”_

Hanzo couldn’t stop himself flinching as the memory of that advice echoed through his head, leaving him almost stumbling as he reached the door, taking a moment or three to breathe. He still remembered her voice so clearly…

No. Enough. Stop thinking. Hanzo shook himself out of the memories, his head pulsing just a little harder now. The dragons chittered again and moved to curl around his shoulders protectively. The gesture made him smile, reaching up to scratch the both of them around the scruff of their manes. Twin voices echoed in his mind as they spoke.

_‘You are dreaming more frequently.’_

“I hadn’t noticed.”

_‘Our Blood is alive and wishes us here. The girl-child is alive with her father. Will you not allow yourself to rest without fear?’_

Hanzo couldn’t answer them. They grumbled and settled around his shoulder more securely.

 Deep breath. Release. He pressed the release for the door and stepped silently into the empty corridor. Food and water were his first priorities. Food and water, then work out a plan from there.

If only he knew where a kitchen was.

The archer cursed himself under his breath at the realisation, staring left and right to try and find any distinguishable marker or direction to follow. No luck. The corridor looked identical in both directions, line after line of doors and name plaques ending in a left or right turn. He almost regretted not at least trying to get a tour from Genji before he’d chosen to hide from everything.

**_“Do you require assistance, Agent Shimada?”_ **

Hanzo jumped backwards, flattening his back against the cool metal wall and shifting into a defensive position on instinct at the disembodied voice suddenly appearing from nowhere. The dragos reared their heads from around his shoulders to hiss protectively at the empty air. The corridor was still deserted in both directions, and no one was hidden above him – he found himself looking around again in a panic before the voice spoke again.

**_“Whilst your reflexes are commendable, you can stand down, Agent Shimada. I am Athena. An Artificial Intelligence implanted into the systems of this base. I ask again, do you need assistance?”_ **

The archer left himself slip out of the defensive position, cautiously stepping away from the wall and looking around again. He was still alone. Physically, anyway.

“I was hoping to locate a kitchen.” Hanzo spoke softly, unsure of the soundproofing levels of the rooms around him. The last thing he needed was to meet his new ‘teammates’ whilst sneaking to the kitchen at 2am in the same rumpled clothes he’d slept in. He should have at least considered changing, but he didn’t plan on being seen so who really cared? It felt foolish talking to the air, even knowing it was an AI (and weren’t those outlawed? This place got stranger and stranger…).

**_“Understood. If you would please follow the pathway, you will find the kitchen on this floor.”_ **

To his right the lights began to pulse slowly. His steps were silent as he passed by room after room, taking notes of the names on each door as he went. _Song, Wilhelm, Shimada_ – he ignored the way the ache in his chest clawed a little harder for his attention at that one – _Amari, McCree, Oxton_ … So many new people and strange faces. All over again.

 _‘You did this once before’_ one of the dragons whispered to him.

‘ _The girl-child and her companions’_ the other reminded him.

Hanzo sighed, murmuring softly to them, “it’s different. They did not know me. Not as they do here. The people here have had time to judge my actions and make their own thoughts.”

_‘You are afraid…Do not be. Your actions will speak for you. They will see who you are in time’_

“My actions now are no better than my past. They have nothing to see in me.” Hanzo replied bitterly, letting the dragons fall silent as he continued to follow the slowly pulsing lights the AI had guiding him. It was only a few minutes of walking before he reached the kitchen. The door sliding open with a soft _shhhh_ to admit him. The dragons left his shoulders to explore almost immediately, their blue forms coiling around each other as they glided across cabinets and countertops, ducking through the doorway that supposedly lead to a dining room or something similar.

He left them to their exploring as his mind wandered off, locating an old scratched teapot in one corner and flicking the switch to heat the water while opening cupboard after cupboard for a cup. Tea was always a good solution to a sleepless night, and it was shaping up to be a long one.

A nondescript mug full of steaming tea later, Hanzo settled himself into a corner of the cafeteria to watch the moon through the windows. Steam from the mug filled his lungs with warmth and the lingering chill from his fingertips finally faded. His dragons, done with their exploration and discovers of the new environment, remained a lightly dozing tangle of scales and fur on the table in front of him. He let his fingertips trail over their bodies softly, feeling his mouth smile a little at the gentle grumble that came from the tangle. It didn’t last long before he sighed and looked down into the mug of tea in his hands again.

“I know you are there. You may as well come and sit.” He spoke. There was silence for a moment, then the sound of obvious steps against the floor. He had been hiding his steps until Hanzo had called out to him. “There is more tea if you wish it, Genji…” he trailed off as he remembered the armour. Could he even drink tea any more? How much had he truly robbed his brother of? One of the dragons raised its head at the presence moving to the chair opposite. He heard Genji checkle when said drago decided he wasn’t a threat and settled back down again.

“Three hours I’ve waited for you to leave your room. I had hoped I would catch you here sooner or later.” Hanzo hesitated at that voice. It wasn’t metallic like it had been before. Was he not wearing the armour? “it has been a while since they showed themselves in this form. Is everything alright Hanzo?” The archer steeled himself, fighting down the panic as he raised his head to meet Genji’s.

Nausea curled tight and hot in his stomach as he stared into brown eyes he remembered so well. The scars that littered his skin shone a little in the fluorescent lighting. Skin stretched over old wounds and cybernetics. His hair was still that awful shade of green he had insisted on dyeing it over a decade ago. He was smiling at Hanzo.

 _Fuck. He hadn’t imagined it._ They really did smile the same.

The nausea became too much, and Hanzo had to look away before it threatened to overwhelm him. His attention returned to the dragons still coiled on the table between him and Genji, reaching one hand down to brush over their scales in soft strokes. The repetitive action helped him regain control.

“I saved you dinner. It’s in the refrigerator.”

“I am not hungry.” not any more.

“You should still eat.”

Hanzo didn’t respond, letting silence fall between them.

There is a brief window of time late in the night, when everything feels still and silent and the air is lazy with the actions of the day that has passed, that creates an atmosphere unlike any other time or place in the world. A time between the waking chaos of the morning and the drowsiness of the evening before.

There is a peace in that moment, subtle and kind to the weary and waking alike. Fey had called it the Witching hours. When the night casts a spell over those still awake, giving peace and clarity to the troubled minds. She had said it made people more honest and more receptive to thoughts and energies. Hanzo had scoffed and called her childish.

Perhaps there was something to it after all, however, when he found himself remaining in his seat instead of fleeing. Or perhaps it was just the deep-set exhaustion hitting him again.

“You ran away before I could talk to you earlier. I wanted to tell you how glad I am that you chose to come, brother.” Genji eventually said softly. The words were spoken so softly, so sincerely, Hanzo could have almost believed them. He let himself take another look at the cyborg opposite him. That smile was stretched wider, and his eyes crinkled at the corners while his hands rested under his chin still covered in the cybernetics and synthetics.

Hanzo felt his heartbeat lodge itself firmly back into his throat again. This was too much. He couldn’t do this. It was too domestic, sitting here in the quiet hours of the night with his brother as if nothing had ever happened.

“I had hoped by talking to you alone, you might relax and be – Hanzo?” Genji’s nervous voice made him realise his hands were shaking around the mug of tea. It was barely lukewarm by now. The dragons on the table raised their heads, alert to his emotions and immediately skittering across the table to wrap around his hands comfortingly, knotting and twisting around them. Cool metal touched his fingers and Hanzo flinched back hard enough that some of the liquid hit the table as it spilled out from the cup.

“I-I apologise. I can’t do this.” Hanzo said, rising to his feet with his mug in the hands tied together by his dragons. He was stopped by Genji’s hand darting out to grip his wrist, strong enough that he couldn’t pull his arm back. One of the dragons untangled from its brother and slipped over Genji’s wrist, twisting its head to stare at Hanzo as its voice echoed in his mind. ‘ _Are you so cowardly you cannot stay?’_ it taunted him.

“Are you going to run away every time you see me, Hanzo?” a sad voice echoed his dragon’s almost perfectly. “I didn’t ask you here to make you miserable…can’t you even look at me?” _No. No of course I can’t. How can I? How can you?_

Hanzo’s eyes flickered to Genji’s face without meaning to. He looked hurt, concerned, the scars around his lips distorting the frown they were turned down into. Oh. There was the nausea again. The sight of those metal hands wrapped around his wrist brought it curling back into his stomach. They were cold, so cold, so different from his memories when Genji was always warm from the summer sunlight or from winters under the kotatsu or even just from his own exuberant energy and she’d been exactly the same she was so warm even when the fire raged around her-

“I-I can’t.” Hanzo whispered, a harsh, ragged thing clawing its way out of his throat as he turned his head back to the window. He wanted to scream when he heard Genji sigh so softly, hearing him murmur ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you’ but almost as soon as his wrist was free he fled back to his room, two coils of light trailing after him as the dragons followed until he was behind the safety of the door once more.

His heart thumped so painfully in his chest and his lungs burned from the run back – _liar, that wasn’t enough to tire you –_ And his legs shook so hard he had to fall to the floor, leaning his back against the door behind him. Why was this so difficult? It had been so long why wouldn’t the damned _scars just fade already_?

He didn’t bother attempting to sleep any more. He could already tell it was going to be another game of roulette between what came first: exhaustion, or daybreak.

 -----

_Hanzo sighed as he shouldered his bag higher, gaze flicking around to see everyone and everything as he walked into the pitch site for the circus. Mostly the bare bones were left now, the show having finished hours ago. The moonlight hung in a near perfect crescent overhead as he walked amongst the men and women dismantling metal beams and poles to pack into the various trucks around the edges of the site._

_Laughter and chatter crowded around him, people easily going back and forth like he didn’t exist. No one was paying any attention to him. That in itself was both a novelty, and a cause for concern. They would let just anyone off the streets wander into their pitch site?_

_“Mind yourself!” an lilting Irish-accented voice called out from behind him in warning, startling Hanzo into turning around just as two workers carrying a large beam over their shoulders crossed behind him. “Sorry pet, didn’t mean to startle you!” Hanzo blinked and stared as a tall man and a tiny woman carried a stack of three or four heavy looking metal beams on their shoulders, the woman even giving him a friendly smile as they walked on past him._

_“Hey! Hey you! Do a guy a favour and take this to truck three would you please?” another voice called out. Hanzo turned again to face a man with fiery red hair balanced precariously on the top of a ladder. The man smiled down at him again and pointed to the pile of boxes and speakers.Hanzo stared at him in confusion and the man’s smile dropped a little into confusion, then realisation._

_“Oh! You’re new! Truck three is the one with the Gold decoration on the side, it should be just over the other side of the field. Look for the Sophia, she’ll be nearby. Red hair, dressed in green.” Hanzo simply stared in silence for a moment. They already assumed he worked here. He’d only come to see the woman from yesterday. To tell her…_

_To tell her what?_

_Well, until he could see her, what did he have to lose by carrying some boxes? The archer stacked some of the boxes together (and what the hell were in these things they were deceptively heavy?!) before carrying them in the direction he had been pointed. There were three trucks lined up, surrounded by people carrying various pieces of equipment or tech. He caught sight of a flash of green and focused in on the truck to the far right, where a woman in a bright green bodysuit stood on the back of the high truck, taking up boxes and supplies from the people on the ground._

_Hanzo waited near the back of the crowd, watching the people around him. How they moved and how they interacted. The people here spoke like they’d known each other for years. Maybe they had. Everything moved fluidly like water around him. They had their jobs and their roles and each person moved as part of something larger. He watched it all for a while until a sharp whistle caught his attention. The lady in the green costume, Sophia, the man had called her, was smiling and waving him over._

_“Impressive! Usually it takes at least two to pull Evan’s equipment over here! Good to see someone whose muscles aren’t just for show for once!” The woman grinned brightly at him, motioning for him to place the heavy boxes down on the edge of the truck. He does so silently, surprised to find himself relaxing into the easy air of the place. She thanked him and started pushing the boxes one by one into the back of the truck to join the other multitude of varying storage containers. Hanzo wondered where the woman from last night was, he hadn’t seen her at all yet and she didn’t seem the sort to hide away. He decided to take a risk and ask._

_“Ah, excuse me.” He called out, Sophia pivoting around to smile at him again with a cheerful ‘right here!’. Was everyone just naturally happy here? Why did they all smile at him so much? “I am looking for someone, a woman who was performing tricks with fire last night. Is she here?” Sophia’s cheerful face shifted into thought, her foot tapping on the ground._

_“Fire tricks, fire tricks…who was on the – Oh!!” Hanzo startled at the sudden exclamation. Where did her energy come from? “Dark skin? Hair in two buns? Glitter everywhere?” the woman clapped her hands when Hanzo confirmed it. “that’s Fey! She’ll be near the main tent, that’s where the aerialist equipment is packed down!”_

_Hanzo nodded and left the far too cheerful woman to her packing. The main circus tent was mostly dismantled by now, but Hanzo could spot a small group of five or so people still packing down equipment from the inside away into crates. Four of them dismantling the rigging and twisting up pieces of fabric or rope, one off to the side packing everything down into the crates and carrying beams back and forth. It didn’t take long for him to spot his target. Or for her to spot him._

_And there was that smile again._

_She leaned on the crate on crossed arms in a self-satisfied way, a smug little grin curling over her lips as she watched him approach. He hoped he wouldn’t regret this. He watched her turn her head a little, calling out to the other people behind her. “Dad! Mama! Ollie!” Hanzo felt himself tense as three sets of eyes turned to face him. “I want you to meet someone, this guy’s going to be travelling with us!” Hanzo frowned and crossed his arms over his chest at that, looking at the young woman incredulously._

_“I did not say I would be coming with you.” He pointed out. He tried to pretend he wasn’t fully aware of the heavy bag on his shoulder, all his belongings tucked inside._

_“You don’t have to, you're here after all. Anyways-” the woman stood up from her slouched position, easily bending a leg up in an impressive display of flexibility to step over the crate in the most unnecessarily over-dramatic manner considering she could have walked around it just as quickly. As she jumped down the other side and stood in front of him, she held out a hand to him. “I’m Felicia Laurentine, but no one calls me anything but Fey. By which I mean if you call me anything but Fey, I’ll beat you six ways to Sunday. You got a name stranger?”_

_Hanzo found himself staring at her hand for a moment, hesitating paralyzing his muscles. Fey stood there patiently until he could eventually reach out, grasping her hand and shaking it firmly. He noted how despite the delicate look of her hands, she was deceptively strong._

_“It’s…Haru. Call me Haru.”_

\----

Hanzo winced in pain as he was dragged back to consciousness. He was still curled up in front of his own door, the hard floor having left an ache in his legs, back, and shoulders that reminded him of the stupid decision as he slowly moved to stand up. He didn’t feel rested.

The memories of the night earlier weighed heavily on his thoughts. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t look Genji in the face and keep seeing Fey surrounded by fire. He couldn’t remember Fey without thinking of Genji and the blood he has spat across the floor while his eyes stared at him in fear and betrayal. He’d thought himself strong enough for this but it’s difficult to be strong when your biggest regrets are staring you right in the face.

But then where else was he supposed to go?

He dragged himself into the showed in a fog, letting the water wash away the last of the physical ache. While the water washed away the physical, Hanzo turned his thoughts back to perhaps the best memory he had from the circus.

He could still recall the day Fey had first asked him to join her onstage. He remembered how much he had hated the idea, tried to turn her away. Being responsible for her life wasn’t a task he wanted yet. But her begging had won out and he agreed.

The cowboy who had been hiding between two of the booths had drawn his attention almost immediately. Hanzo had found it amusing how he grimaced and hid from the clowns. Why would he fear his co-workers just because they wore ridiculous face paints? He remembered the voice that had told him not to laugh at him. How it had sounded so rough and whiskey smooth all at once. He remembered how the cowboy had said he’d come and watch the show after Fey had hunted him down to get ready. It had reminded him of when he too had first joined them.

Then that show. His first time performing on the aerial straps to an audience. Looking down and seeing the man’s face lit up in wonder as he stared solely at Hanzo. As if he was there only for Hanzo. How his lips were parted and turned up in a gentle smile, his eyes wide and fascinated. Hanzo had never been looked at like that.

He’d never forgotten that expression. In the loneliest nights when he’d hardly had time to rest, when running was his only way to survive. He’d never forgotten the warmth that had bloomed in his heart to think someone, somewhere in the back end of nowhere, could want to look at him like that. Like he was truly something delicate and beautiful, worthy of such awe and smiles.

He dragged himself out of the shower and dried off efficiently, wasting no time as he began to dress. If he was going to meet the people he called a ‘team’ today, then at least he could choose how to present himself. His traditional clothing, the _kyudo-gi_ , perhaps that way if he needed to flee he could at least find a training room to work out the nerves bubbling up again. He gave serious debate to his bow. Taking it could make them think him a threat…but to leave it made him feel vulnerable.

He picked it up before he could overthink it. If these people knew Genji, it wouldn’t matter if they saw him as a threat. At least he could prove them right early on and avoid pain later. He ignored the low growling in the back of his mind at that thought.

He’d made his choice, now it was time to face the consequences.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write the idea of Hanzo working with a circus and finding a family before overwatch, and how that could affect him if he lost that family as well before reaching overwatch.


End file.
